Touch Communication
by tarsido
Summary: They never thought they had to relearn how to speak again. A language just for two, between the blind and the mute. Established KaiShin, short.
1. If you can keep your head

**Touch Communication**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

**Rating: T for swearing**

**Warning: Angst, fictional representation of disability, hints at mature content**

**Summary: They never thought they had to relearn how to speak again. A language just for two, between the blind and the mute.**

If you can keep your head

They hadn't meant for him to hear it, but he did.

"No chance? No chance of recovery- whatsoever?" A voice he dimly recognized as Shinichi's mother sounded like she was on the verge of tears, but he was too distracted to pay much attention. "How can this be? Now that everything is finally over…"

Kaito touched the dead skin of his empty eye sockets, scraping lightly with a finger tip over the dryness. _Never again, _he repeated to himself as if he was stamping out weeds in a garden._ No hope whatsoever, none-_

He slumped against his pillows and let out a sound- he wasn't quite sure himself if it was a hysterical laugh or a sob. He swallowed painfully, like he was eating glass shards. He scoured his teeth with his tongue roughly, distantly surprised at the lack of blood. The bitter taste of bile stayed pungent on his tongue. They had just taken out the Black Organisation. They had the rest of their lives ahead of them. They had _planned_ out the rest of their lives- innocently, naively, hopefully. Now this happened and-

A faint thump sounded on his left and he felt his bed sink in slightly. Alarm flared in him, his nerves shrieking. He hadn't heard any telltale signs of the door opening. _It's the Black Organisation, what's left of it, finishing off what's left of us-_

Arms circled around his torso as a slim body was flung into his lap. He stiffened, but the heft, the touch, the little habits, like that grabby attachment to his sleeve- even the consistent downwards pull was so very familiar- he remembered a snort and _sew it back on if it falls off, you twit,_ but paranoia seized him –_they could be faking it, spying on you and Shinichi, whispered the voice insidiously- _and stayed unresponsive.

The body straightened up, shifting clumsily in Kaito's lap. Kaito automatically put a hand on where he thought the lower back was- well, it wouldn't be too amiss if he groped Shinichi- to prevent the figure from tipping over and sliding off. A damp breath exhaled in the junction between his shoulder and neck. Sharp teeth latched onto his earlobe and _pulled_.

He shouted, slapping a hand over his ear, catching the other person in the back of the head with a smack. "You're definitely Shinichi," he grumbled, settling his hands more comfortably after an awkward fluttery-motioned grope-exploration he made of Shinichi's body. "Why didn't you say something?"

The fingers on his sleeve and back tightened, leaving indents on his skin that was almost painful. He was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the round damp spots Shinichi was making against his shirt- he thought they were just the moisture from Shinichi's breathing, but if they were- His heart seized painfully, his mind suddenly running wild, flashes of possible dreadful scenarios Shinichi could have faced, alone against the Black Organisation, after Kaito had fainted from blood loss and pain. "What did they do to you, darling?" he whispered. An intense, icy terror burnt under his skin, now feeling too tight and thin to fit him. He tried to let go of Shinichi to discreetly wipe his palms on his blankets, but his arms were stiff and unmoving. Lips moved near his jaw line, but they provided no answer, only a repetitive motion against his skin. _Kaito, Kaito, Kaito, Kaito…_ The terror surged in his throat and he felt bile momentarily gather in his mouth again.

He tugged at Shinichi, nudging at him to sit upright. Teeth bit down on his shoulder, lightly leaving reddish indents of displeasure, but compliantly shifted. Kaito raised a trembling hand, touching Shinichi's throat. The adam's apple bobbed, and the muscles moved under the skin, but only an obligatory rasp sounded. Kaito closed his eyes in empty despair_- not that that helps anything now_- and crushed Shinichi against his body tightly, wishing he could wrap around him, protect him, and tuck him away from the dangers of the world. _I'm sorry, so sorry, so sorry-_ He opened his mouth, to croak out his apologies, to do anything-

Shinichi let out a 'tch' sound, clicking his tongue rapidly. _Somehow, he makes it sound disapproving, _Kaito thought with hollow amusement. He struggled against Kaito's tight hold, but eventually gave up, lying quietly against Kaito, his breathing slow and soft against his neck. Then he whacked him with a fist.

Kaito whimpered, but clutched Shinichi even more tightly, as if Shinichi was his only lifeline to the guilt and horror swamping him. "Please," he whispered. "Please just- just let me do this, for a while."

Shinichi's struggles subsided, and he nuzzled Kaito's neck. Dry, cracked lips traced motions over Kaito's skin, and he wondered if Shinichi was trying to communicate with him, but bitterly recognizing the motion. _Kaito, Kaito, Kaito, Kaito…_ Was Shinichi trying to comfort him? Take care of him? He smiled, agonized. _It was so like him._ He blinked his eyes habitually as if to hold back tears, but realizing it wasn't necessary anymore. But then why- He let out such a torn laugh, the motion of it wracking his entire body, that had Shinichi tensing against him. He patted Shinichi soothingly.

It was so ironic that his tormentors had left his tear ducts intact, so he could cry.

{1}

He spent his days recalling his tricks to mind, reworking them, discarding them if he couldn't use them anymore. _No more visual cues_, he reminded himself, feeling a familiar ache in his chest. He had been feeling it the whole day, as he worked through his daily routines. Simple tasks became so much harder suddenly. Routes that seemed so easy became treacherous paths to navigate. He spun his pen. Paper lay uselessly on the wooden board balanced over his lap. It was more for habit's sake, he told himself. One couldn't quite break away from years of habits in just few days after all. Besides, it helped him think.

He put aside his pen, pushed aside the wooden board, and climbed out of bed slowly. _With normal steps, the length of the hospital room is 13 steps long, so from this side, turn right on the fourth step -watch the table, you'll knock over a vase placed on the left side (he snorted, what's the point? He couldn't see it anyway.) if you overstepped-, turning left on the ninth step -lower the speed or it'll hurt if you crash into the side table- and turn back on the eleventh. Shinichi's bed is seven or six normal steps approximately forwards, a large side step, then 2 more normal steps forward. Converting into metric that would be-_

A hand laid on his shoulder. The bed sunk in slightly, and a quick beeping sound piqued Kaito before a smooth metallic surface was shoved into his hands. _Ah. _The crazy professor that Shinichi was close to had created a makeshift system for them to communicate with. Shinichi could punch in his message, the system would automatically convert it to Braille, and the corresponding bumps would pop up on the smooth metal surface. Kaito thought it was alright, but it didn't convey the nuances of Shinichi's tone. He felt a pang and brushed it away. Shinichi didn't need any reminders of how he would never be able to use his voice again.

It was a question mark. Kaito looked up (_no, faced upwards, since he wouldn't be able to see anything_) and talked in what he hoped was Shinichi's direction. "Ah, I was just thinking I wanted to-" _Not see, stupid, when will you remember? _"-hold you. But you loved me so much, you came to me!" He stretched his arms wide, plastic smile firmly affixed to his face. "Come here, Shinichi and let me give you a hug-" Warm hands cupped his face, then pulled it painfully, stretching his cheeks. All the clever words tumbled from his mind as he whined, felt along the arms, and flailed at Shinichi.

"Stop that! It hurts! Ouchouchouchouch-"

Shinichi let go. Kaito could almost imagine the scowl on his face. He felt a sharp stab of terror. What if he forgot all about it? All the darling smiles and sulks and nasty frowns and how engrossed Shinichi looked when he was reading his latest mystery book acquisition, how relaxed and peaceful he was when he lay against Kaito, that intense look on his face when he was trying to figure puzzles out, that cat-got-the-cream _smirk _when he did, that _glare _that looked like it would cut you to pieces, it was so sharp-

He vaguely felt Shinichi patting at his shoulders futilely, anxious little flutters of hands against his skin. He shook his head and summoned a smile. He instinctively knew it was weak, and not up to the standards of Poker Face that his father taught him.

Shinichi walloped him with the wooden board and sat there unmercifully while Kaito curled up around his knees cringing and whimpering from the pain. He could hear rapid beeping of the machine. "What's with you today, Shinichi?" He whined. "Do you suddenly hate me? Stress? PMS?"

A quick pinch to his sides had him fussing again. He mumbled incoherently at the injustice of it all, then was distracted by the bumps on the little machine thrust at him. The metal was cool and smooth under his finger tips.

_Idiot, stop lying._ He scowled at Shinichi. "I'm not lying! It's always great to (_to see)_ hold you. You're warm and cozy." He did the best approximation of a leer he could bring up. He was mildly satisfied. While not quite the best, it was dodgy enough to normally send Shinichi skittering miles away, flushing. (_Why does he keep reminding himself of things he can't have anymore._)

Instead, Shinichi climbed into Kaito's lap and guided his arms to cup his face, then slide downwards to around his waist. (He felt a surge of gratitude for Shinichi. He knew how much Kaito hated how awkward it was, reaching out for Shinichi's neck or trying to aim kisses with just a wild guess at where the body parts were.) Nimble fingers pulled Kaito's mouth edges downwards in a frown, then a light brush of chapped lips followed the path of the fingers.

"I miss looking at you," he blurted out, and a sharp jolt ran through him like an electric pulse. _Oh God, what was he doing, complaining about his problems selfishly when Shinichi has lost just as much, and maybe even more-_

A finger rested against his lips in the universal 'be quiet' motion. Judging by the irritated little clicks Shinichi was sounding, it was probably more like a 'Shut up'. Arms wrapped around his neck, gently pressing him closer to Shinichi's leaner frame. He bit his tongue. _Can't let himself go, he had to be strong, _he reminded himself. _It would be selfish to ask Shinichi to hold up both of them when he was the one that screwed up, that caused the whole fucking mess to happen_-

The arms moved off his shoulders, but the body remained comfortingly wedged against his. Little beeping noises sounded again and then his hand was grabbed and guided over the metal surface.

_It's alright to grieve._

An overwhelming surge of pent-up emotions displaced him so badly; he gasped and clung onto Shinichi so tightly, he was sure there would be bruises later. "No, I can't- I have to- I-" he muttered wildly. Shinichi just clutched onto him equally tightly, mouthing damp _Kaito, Kaito, Kaito, Kaito_ into his skin. He abruptly pushed Shinichi over, rolling him onto his side and curling around him. Kaito buried his face into Shinichi's back. Shinichi, whose grip on Kaito's arms had tightened in alarm, relaxed and laid limply on the bed, gently stroking the back of Kaito's hands clasped around his waist. "Don't- Don't look, okay." Kaito muffled stubbornly into Shinichi's hospital issue shirt. He felt the comforting petting stop, and a tiny huff, before resuming again.

When they woke up again, Shinichi just changed his damp shirt for a clean, dry one, without-_ not without a word, because he can't do that now-_ any fuss. Kaito felt a prickling again, and discreetly scrubbed at his face. Shinichi pretended he didn't see it.


	2. If you can force your heart,nerve,sinew

**Touch Communication**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

If you can force your nerve, heart and sinew

Shinichi knew that Kaito was trying to cover it up. Trying to hide his guilt and sadness and his hurt and loss and despair behind a silly mask. He didn't want Kaito to do that. The severity of these injuries would change their _whole lives _irrevocably. Growing a mask over the gaping wounds that would only crack one day to reveal the rotting, festering flesh beneath just didn't make any sense to Shinichi.

He sighed and turned on his side to regard the black box Professor Agasa had given him. The Professor had given it some touch ups, and explained the new features to him. He sighed. _Why would I need so many methods of inputting characters? This method of communication is so clumsy and slow. _Shinichi frowned, then picked up the thin book lying next to it. _This will help you talk to people using sign language,_ his mother had told him with tears brimming in her eyes. He huffed soundlessly and put it down. He knew this already; it came in the 'knows a lot of useless information' category that people often put him in_._ All in all, Shinichi thought he was coping rather well with his mutism; it was the other people in his life that weren't doing so good. _Like Kaito._

He also knew that Kaito thought he was to blame for how they were captured when in a delicate situation by the Black Organisation, but Shinichi didn't think so. It was simple misfortune that made their spy's cover become risky, and when Kaito and Shinichi had decided to make a move to save the situation, a misstep made the whole mess get blown to hell. But the takedown was successful, and that was all anyone could ask for, really. Shinichi was just grateful that both he and Kaito were alive.

Being mute wasn't as terrible and life-ruining as Kaito seemed to think. There were many methods of electronic communication that could suffice to convey his meaning accurately. Agasa was even talking about creating a device that could read out what Shinichi wrote in Shinichi's voice, using existing records and clips. He also asked if Kaito would provide voice-overs for this project, but Shinichi wasn't sure. Judging by Kaito's state of mind, Kaito might just become more traumatized by the reminder that Shinichi lost his voice and fall deeper into his self-created abyss of despair. Shinichi clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Besides, he wasn't sure whether he'd even want to use that device. Since it was just a theory, it was fine and all to consider, but by now, he thought he'd know himself well enough that using it in practice might prove a different, _emotional_ reaction. He wasn't sure if he'd be upset with the thought of using a replica, sounding so close to what he had, but ultimately different, as it couldn't project the tones and nuances that a human being could. Shinichi mentally visualized it, then shivered, hugging his elbows. _No, he couldn't._

There was a knock on the door and Shinichi looked up, opening his mouth to answer- but realized he couldn't. The nurse popped in the doorway, and smiled at Shinichi. Shinichi mouthed a greeting at her anyway. "Good morning to you too, Shinichi! You have a guest, Mouri Ran, who wants to see you today, are you feeling up for visitors?" The nurse, Akita, if he remembered correctly, said cheerily. _A specialized nurse, trained to handle disabled patients, and is proficient with Japanese sign language and lip reading._ He knew his father had specially asked for this nurse in his ward.

Shinichi nodded. It would be good to see Ran again. She was one of the few people who could look at him without getting weepy or treating him as an invalid. _So irritating_. Shinichi ignored the niggling thought that he was being uncharitable to people. He was the one with the injury to the brain lobe, he could be irritable.

Ran entered the room with a standard bouquet of brightly-coloured flowers. Shinichi snorted. With the number of flowers he was receiving, he was glad neither him nor Kaito was allergic to pollen. "Shinichi! How are you? You look well." She leant down and hugged Shinichi, before settling her bags on the table. "Where's Kaito?" She queried, looking at the opposite end of the room. "Oh!" She snapped her fingers, reached into her bag and pulled out a familiar thin book, "Your mother gave me this- Ah, you have it too," Ran stared at the matching books on Japanese sign language. "Well, that's alright, that means that you know it too, right? I've been practicing! Could you try with me?" Ran looked so hopeful that Shinichi put aside the black box with a shrug and nodded.

_Kaito's with the eye surgeon. They're talking about the possibility of a prosthetic eye. Though I don't think Kaito's very keen on it. He says it looks disturbing. _Shinichi looked wryly amused. _Personally, I think him facing you with his empty eyelids is a lot more creepy than prosthetic eyes, but it's all up to him, I guess._

"Ah, you do it so fast!" Ran stared at Shinichi's hands, wide-eyed and intent. "Could you do it again? I lost you after the fake eye."

Shinichi huffed, but patiently signed again.

"Ahh.. I see. Wow, this is much harder than I thought." Ran poked Shinichi and gave him a winning smile. "Sorry, but could you go a bit slower? Just a bit?"

Shinichi quirked a smile and nodded agreeably.

They cheerfully conversed for a little while, before Ran suddenly realized that she should put the flowers in a vase before they started to droop. "Ah, I guess I should find a vase," Ran said aloud, "Shinichi, do you know where the vases are?" She turned around, looking for a storage cabinet.

Shinichi started to sign, _Behind you, in the lowest shelf_, then scowled. Ran wasn't looking at him!

"Shinichi, tell me already!" Ran shouted, as she searched around the room. "Seriously, this is your room, don't tell me-" A heavy thump sounded. She turned around. Shinichi had dropped the bags by his bed side in a haphazard mess. She wilted at the narrow-eyed glare Shinichi sliced her with and the brusque signs Shinichi made jerkily with his hands. "Shinichi, I forgot, I'm…" Ran said hesitantly, but Shinichi bent over the edge of the bed, and started to rearrange the bags, refusing to look at her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, a watery edge in her voice, and turned to fill the vase with water using the little sink in the room. An awkward silence fell between them.

Shinichi suddenly felt a crushing weight within him. He knew it wasn't Ran's fault, and a part of him felt guilty, but it was tiny compared to the larger part of him that just wanted Ran to quickly leave so he could be alone to brood again. He saw Ran's upset expression out of the corner of his eye, but the greater part of him simply couldn't drudge up the energy to care. He closed his eyes and leant back, ignoring Ran's calls. Eventually, she left, glancing at him miserably multiple times. He was sorry, and promised himself to apologise to her when she came back again the next day.

He shouldn't have been so mad at her, he knew. But when she turned her back on him- he finally realized why people despaired of mutism. Just a simple drift in attention, or anything else can so easily rob the tenuous link of communication he had, and in a chaotic situation, he might never be able to get it back, or draw attention back to himself at all. In every sense of the word, he would be helpless. He shut his eyes, letting the chilling realization sink roots into him, like ivy weakening a wall.

Perhaps he wasn't as resigned to the situation as he thought he was.

{2}

Shinichi raced down to the crowd of people milling in the lounge. He winced as he squeezed through the jostling crowd, missing the ability to alert people to clear a path with his voice. _Just one more thing I have to get used to_, he thought.

The police was at the scene already, thankfully. (_There had been a moment that he had been frightened, wondering how he would call out instructions for civilians to step away from the body and such.)_ Inspector Megure and the other police were checking around the scene of the crime, flashes of the forensic photographer's camera lighting the body periodically. He approached Inspector Megure.

"Ah, Kudou!" Megure looked surprised, then confused. "I thought you were still unwell. Are you out of the hospital already?"

He shrugged, and nodded. It had been weeks after all, and the doctors had already been sure that the damage was irreparable a while ago. _Only a miracle would cure his brain trauma,_ a private doctor his father had brought in to examine him said. His father and mother had refused to give up hope, and were looking for other physicians with better qualifications out of the country. Shinichi sighed and wished they would leave him alone already. He didn't want to have different doctors tramping in and out of his house, knowing that that they had rejected treating him. _How depressing._ Shinichi just wanted to concentrate on living with what he had now, and not changing what he couldn't.

"Well…" The Inspector's usually genial face was edgy. "Don't worry about this, just do your best and get well soon!" He turned away to bark sharply at one of the officers who approached, holding up an evidence bag with a piece of bloodstained paper.

Shinichi felt a stab of surprising hurt, then schooled his face impassively. Megure probably didn't know too much of the details and he probably meant the best but… _Get well soon?_ He chuckled bitterly. _Too bad that's impossible._ He looked around the crime scene with a practiced eye, studiously avoiding the body, or at best, sweeping over it with a cursory glance. _No- Don't look at it too much- Don't trigger any flashbacks-_

He stood up again, looking for the officer with the evidence bag. He seized the bag, and read the note. The officer who was in custody of the bag protested, "Hey you! Don't interfere with-" before he was hastily interrupted by his partner and a whispered conversation was conducted. Immediately, he went silent, and a pitying look surfaced on his face. Shinichi felt something inside him surge with defensive anger, and tried to ignore it. _A dying message. That means…_

He looked around, the officers with the note hurrying away, then cringed. Officer Satou and Officer Takagi were holding the evidence bag for the murder weapon. He exhaled heavily, steeled himself and headed straight for them.

"Kudou," Satou looked up and blinked at him in surprise. "I saw you just now, but I didn't get to say hello, and I thought you left. Shouldn't you be getting some rest? Are you feeling better?"

_So many questions._ He leveled Satou an unimpressed stare, shook his head and shrugged. He tapped his throat and let out a rasp.

"Ah… I see." Satou's expression was starting to descend into something he did not like _at all_. "Well… feel free to hang around here and look around. If you need anything, I'll be questioning the civilians in the lounge." She strode off, her legs eating up the distance quickly with her fast pace, leaving Takagi looking uneasy and awkward, like an abandoned baby giraffe.

Shinichi gritted his teeth and snatched the evidence bag away from Takagi more forcefully than he had intended, refusing to look at Officer Takagi. He examined the murder weapon and a clean, triumphant joy (_like the sound of trumpets and orchestra, and other lively things like that_) filled him as the pieces fell into place and more possibilities closed up, leading him closer to the final truth. _Now, I just need…_ He handed the bag back to Takagi and walked away, looking around for Satou. _She would probably know who the suspects are._

"Wait! Kudou!" Takagi called out.

Shinichi turned around, eyebrows raised. _What now?_ Takagi stared at him, then thrust a piece of paper and a pen, as well as what looked like the case files at him. _What-_

"So what do you think of the case?" Takagi asked. He sounded like he was trying to be casual, but with his twitching, nervous expression, he couldn't quite pull it off. His eyebrows were drawn downwards, perfectly serious. "I- I've been learning how to lip read," he blurted out. "You can try that."

Shinichi stared at him, and felt gratefulness well up inside him like a burgeoning spring. He read through the victim profiles and analysis of the bodies quickly.

_The first mysterious point in this case is the eyes. The victims were not in possession of their eyes anymore when we found the bodies, and it is likely that the eyes have been removed prior to their death as there is not enough blood-_

"Wait- wait!" Takagi's eyes were frantically darting from Shinichi's mouth to his eyes. "You're speaking too quickly- I'm not so good yet. I'm sorry-" Takagi looked so embarrassed and sheepish that Shinichi felt sorry for him. He awkwardly patted Takagi on the shoulder. "Maybe-"

Shinichi pushed the pen and paper back at Takagi, fumbled in his pocket for the black box, then brought it out. He tapped the menu function on the screen, then picked through a screen of themed word lists, selecting _Body Parts_. He remembered Haibara coming to his room and sitting with him as she programmed the list, scanning through dictionaries to pick out key words that he wanted. Her face had been dispassionate throughout, but he had wondered if she was feeling guilty that she had been sequestered securely in one of their safe houses while Kaito, Shinichi, their parents and the FBI had went to take out the Black Organisation. He felt a spike of irritation. _Why does everyone want to claim the blame? It's not important anymore._ He focused on the list of words, and tapped_ Eye_.

Takagi's impressed look at his cool gadget faded into a frown. "The victims' eyes were removed, yes," His eyes lit up, "Was he doing it on purpose? If he wanted the eye, it would have to be an eye surgeon or the like then."

Shinichi spun the list to _Phrases_. _No_, followed by _Don't be ridiculous_.

Takagi blinked. "Oh, so it doesn't matter if the eye is preserved? If the eye was just gouged out, it could have been anyone then." He paused. "Wait, why do you have _that_ in your phrase words?"

Shinichi smirked at Takagi wickedly and swiped at his screen. _Fun_ and _Murder Motive._

Takagi looked vaguely uneasy. _Oh, Officer Takagi, you're too serious._

As he and Officer Takagi later headed off to see the suspects the police had narrowed down, Shinichi was glad that Takagi had shown him the descriptions of the victims. He closed his eyes. He couldn't-couldn't bear to go near the bodies, with the ripped out eyeballs, torn eyelids and- _he remembered how they had held down Kaito and strapped him down and laughed as he screamed_- He realized he had stopped walking and couldn't stop shaking alarmingly. Takagi was talking to him concernedly.

He shook off the concern _(don't be bogged down by the past)_, tried his best to rearrange his striken expression into his usual aloof one, and walked ahead quickly, hoping that Takagi would follow. After a hesitation, Takagi caught up, but his worried face didn't go away.


	3. If you can meet with Triumph & Disaster

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

Kaito waited in anticipation, running his hands over Shinichi's shoulders excitedly. Agasa had sent a prototype machine to help Shinichi communicate better, reading out whatever characters Shinichi inputted. At first, Kaito had been a little disgruntled by it- He just couldn't link Shinichi and a random automated voice together- but he gradually grew enthusiastic. There was something about new gadgets that appealed to every male out there after all. He spared a grateful thought for Agasa and the creepy little girl, whom he heard stayed up nights to create tools to help him and Shinichi.

Strangely enough, Shinichi always looked doubtful and half-wary of Haibara. He wasn't sure why, but just figured Haibara was like Akako for Shinichi. It was funny though, watching Shinichi completely miss the gentle comments and actions that revealed Haibara's soft spot for Shinichi.

There were a few promising clicking and fiddly sounds, then a silence, and an exhale. Kaito tightened his arms and hung off Shinichi's shoulders, perking up his ears for any sound. A tentative "Hello?" and- "It's a girl voice."

"Suits you," Kaito snickered. Kaito could almost _feel _the burn of Shinichi's glare on the back of his head.

"Could be worse." Kaito felt a roll of muscles, like an incoming wave, beneath his chin and arms. The automated voice was annoyingly cool and chirpy. He blinked, then snickered. Oh, he was going to be like _that_, huh? _Time to up the amp. _

"Yes, it could be Haibara's," Kaito said with a grin. "Or your mum's."

Kaito felt a sadistic glee as Shinichi gave a violent full body shudder at the words, then blunt nails dug a faintly burning track down his arm. "_Ow-"_ He complained, "You're so cruel to me, Shinichi, how could you?"

Irritated clicking sounds, then the warmth of Shinichi's body moved away. Kaito sat up, suddenly alarmed- "Wait-"

Shinichi's weight had left the couch. Kaito sat alone uncertainly, feeling lost. "Shinichi?" He called out hesitantly. The walls were closing in around him, it was getting harder to breathe- "Shinichi, come back, I'm just joking." _You'll come back, won't you? Shinichi will definitely come back._ "Shinichi, I'm sorry! Please-"

Through his clogged ears, he made out the heavy thumps of running footsteps, then a body threw itself into his arms. Bowled over, Kaito breathed heavily and wrapped his arms around Shinichi's warm slim figure, burying his face in Shinichi's hair. Hands ran up and down Kaito's sides comfortingly, and Shinichi's mouth sucked damp little marks onto Kaito's skin, moving soundlessly in that familiar mantra. _Kaito, Kaito, Kaito, Kaito._ He pressed a hand to Shinichi's back, pushing them closer. Kaito imagined that Shinichi could feel his heart hammering in his chest, trying to beat through his ribcage to get closer to Shinichi.

Eventually, his heart slowed, and he felt calmer- and slightly embarrassed at his overreaction. _God, I just flipped out there because Shinichi left for less than five minutes._ Kaito felt a momentary despair. Was it always going to be like that? On the verge of a breakdown whenever someone left him unattended for a while? _How pathetic._

Shinichi had started to fidget restlessly. He reluctantly let go of him, but draped an arm around his waist to keep Shinichi on his lap. It took a while for him to realize that Shinichi was tugging on his sleeve. Shinichi had wound the material of his sleeve around his fist, as he was wont to do so while cuddling, and there was a consistent gravitational pull. It usually amused and slightly irked Kaito, who was forever restitching his sleeves, but now it gave Kaito familiarity and grounded him, making him feel less alone.

"You're going to have to do that for me now," Kaito murmured. His palm was claimed and a question mark drawn on it. "I mean my sleeves. Reattaching them when you yank them off in a fit of rage." There was a pause, then a feathery head collided against his chin harshly. Sparks of pain danced up and down the back of his head, reaching the top of his spine. He winced, and stuck a finger into his mouth, checking his teeth and tongue. "So violent, Shinichi." A tiny scoff answered him.

A figure was drawn on his palm again. Kaito frowned and concentrated. _Eight? An infinity symbol? _No, the edges of one end were straight. _Wait-no-_

Kaito shrieked, tumbled backwards so quickly that Shinichi was knocked out of his lap and scrambled to the other end of the couch. He spun around wildly, wary of any slimy, scaly horrors creeping up on him from nowhere. "Shinichi-" His voice must have rose at least an octave. "How could you?" Kaito wailed. He held his hand as far away from his body as he could in disgusted revulsion and shook it vigorously, as if he was trying to get rid of his hand entirely. _Nononono-_

Quick beeping sounds, then a solid item hit his head. He caught it automatically as it fell, and recognized it as the black box. He fumbled with it, turned it around a few times with shaky hands, before finding the right end with the raised bumps.

_That was what I left the couch for, but I didn't get any. Don't worry, idiot._ His heartbeat steadied as the danger passed, and he regulated his breathing for a little while. A foot tapped anxiously somewhere to his left, the vibrations from the wood beneath his feet alerting him. "Why, you little monster," Kaito growled playfully, lunging forwards with his arms outstretched like a Chinese vampire. Or a zombie. "Come here, I'm going to strangle you-"

Shinichi could have probably dodged Kaito's clumsy attempts at cornering him, but he let himself be reeled in by his arm, and dumped on the couch. Kaito hovered above him, grinning mischievously. "Now, what shall I do with my captive?" Kaito cackled, rubbing his hands dramatically. He let out a peal of diabolic laughter. Shinichi clicked his tongue, annoyed, and pushed at his shoulders. Kaito grabbed hold of Shinichi's right hand (Shinichi would definitely try to punch him for this and that would be no fun) and ran his right hand up under his shirt, gently tapping his finger tips on the smooth, bare skin- then digging his fingers in viciously.

Shinichi reacted as if he was being electrocuted. His body twisted beneath Kaito's helplessly, trying to curl up protectively, but couldn't as Kaito was in the way. Kaito let out an "Oof!" as Shinichi's knees hit his side, but unmercifully continued to vary his tickling between bruising presses and light piano-like stroking. Shinichi was terribly ticklish, so both had him gasping and wheezing noisily, his left hand half-torn between frantically fending off Kaito's quick hands and shielding his vulnerable sides. Short, rapid huffs like laughter escaped from Shinichi's gasping mouth. His shirt was pushed up to under his armpits from his desperate struggles, the folds digging into Kaito's arm as he leant against Shinichi heavily.

When Shinichi's wheezing started to become dangerously infrequent, Kaito finally relented. As he hauled Shinichi up bodily from where he had slid down the seat, he felt a familiar dark stirring within him. He didn't let Shinichi catch his breath, only taking a moment to feel up Shinichi, cupping his chin, to ascertain where his mouth was, and bruisingly pressed his lips against Shinichi's. _Well, the corner of his mouth. Close enough._ He adjusted his angle, and nipped at Shinichi's lip hard, feeling a hard tremble run through Shinichi. An answering pressure against his lips resolved his dilemma, and he licked at Shinichi's mouth, before withdrawing. Protesting claws dug into his side. He grinned wickedly. _He_ wasn't the least bit ticklish. Teeth gnawed at his neck resentfully, leaving sulky bite marks over and under the collar.

He deliberately slid a hand up Shinichi's shirt, slowly tracing intricate patterns down his back. From his stiffening, Kaito didn't think it escaped Shinichi's notice that the mood was shifting. He whispered into Shinichi's ear huskily. "Yes or no, Shinichi?" He licked the upper crescent of the quickly warming ear and closed his teeth gently around the ear lobe.

The ear moved under his grasp, and he let go. A warm breath exhaled along his jaw line, and light kisses, sprinkled with nibbles, climbed up his neck. A character was sketched onto his palm with a steady finger.

Kaito smirked victoriously.

{3}

He felt around in the cramped space, gripped the protrusion tightly and wrenched. He popped off the false bottom of the metal container with a gasp. Squirreling himself into the lower section, he fitted the lid back on, and waited for the cue. Footsteps came closer and closer. _There!_ The container started shifting dangerously, and he readied himself. Voices from outside echoed strangely in the tin can, and he listened intently. _One, two, three!_ He popped up, grinning hugely, safe and intact in one piece.

"Well done!" Kaito was greeted by clamours from his fellow magicians, jostling to congratulate him and get his attention. "Great job, I thought you couldn't have done it for a moment." An awkward silence fell around him. _Shinichi had warned him this would happen, a confession amidst trembling hands, and a too still body-_

"Nonsense, it was Kuroba, of course he could. He wouldn't let something like that stop him, right, Kuroba?" A slap to his back.

He pasted on a confident grin, puffed up and boasted, "For a person of my talent, it's just another climbing block for me! After all, half the reason why Bach is so famous is because he's blind but can play so well right?" Outraged laughter greeted his preposterous claim and people crowded around him, joking, protesting and teasing each other.

Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn't another strike off his list of possible routines. He felt a pang. He had to cancel so many of his tricks because it was either impossible, or too unsafe to do blind. Thankfully, a magician who specialized in doing escape routines blindfolded had helped him refine some points in his plans. He adapted some of them for use during regular tricks as well, such as sleight of hand, coin tricks and other highly visual tricks. Still, handicapped with his blindness, he had to strike off routines that he had always dreamt of performing in front of an audience.

He ran over the list of tricks and paused. The water tank escape trick. _Can't do that anymore, I need my eyes to find the hidden latches of the tank. _His heart wrenched painfully. He couldn't bring himself to strike it off. It had been one of his favourite routines he had enjoyed seeing his father perform when he was alive. It would be like too much like killing off a memory.

_Maybe he could find a way to modify it. _He thought, but was doubtful.

And he haven't even thought about _that-_

He made himself stop. There was only so much pressure his Poker Face could take after all. With nary a tremble to his charming smile, he continued to hold court amongst the other lively magicians.

{3}

He was alone, in the dimly lit room. _(The room he lit on habit. There was no need for light for him anymore.) _These tools, so similar to his daytime magician ones, were special, an odd inheritance from his father. He smoothed a hand over the suit jacket, the rough wool tickling his palm. The smooth silk fabric of the tie. The crisp shirt. He wondered who had ironed it. He hadn't worn the KID costume in a while after Pandora had been destroyed, but he had used it, acting as a decoy for the FBI before. He had been planning to clean it after the occasion with the Black Organisation blew over, but…

The monocle wasn't there, having been smashed to pieces by a stray gunshot. He had been remaking the monocle though, he thought absently. It was probably lying incomplete somewhere. _Lower cabinet, in the hidden false bottom of the second drawer, his eidetic memory supplied him._

He couldn't be KID any longer; that was for sure. While it was possible to become a blind magician, becoming a blind thief, especially of KID's reputation, is definitely a no-no. And now that he was more vulnerable than ever, it would be the smart thing to get rid of any evidence pointing to the conclusion that he was KID.

_Burning was the best way to get rid of evidence right? And movies always went with scattering the ashes over the sea-_

He held the costume gingerly, then gripped it tightly and tried to convince himself. While the rational mind agreed, his body just _refused to obey._

Shinichi entered the room to find him on his knees, rocking over the costume with it clutched to his chest and sobbing shameful, _shameful_ tears over it. He immediately dashed forward, snatched the lighter, made sure it was turned off, and threw it into a corner. He flung his arms around Kaito, making shushing noises, and mouthing against half against his ear and his neck. _Kaito, Kaito, Kaito, Kaito…_ Kaito turned his head away from the damp KID costume; sure he was crumpling it dreadfully, and tucked himself into the crook of Shinichi's neck. The heat of their closeness fevered his skin.

After his tears subsided, he continued leaning against Shinichi, feeling more fragile than he had ever been for a long while. He imagined a loud noise would easily shatter him into tiny Kaito pieces all over the floor and Shinichi, then shook himself. Shinichi would get mad and make that adorable clicking sound and demand that he put himself together and stop making a mess over the floor, probably.

The rounded edges and familiar weight of the black box was shoved into his hands. He took a deep breath, cursing at himself for the traitorous hitch, and told himself he was _not_ to let his hands tremble in any way. They remained satisfyingly steady as he read the rounded bumps. _Dangerous, what were you doing? Playing with fire._

He became suddenly aware of the light trembling that coursed through the body under his. _Oh shit-_ "It's not like that, Shinichi," he said hastily, reaching out to grope up Shinichi's spine, finding his neck. He pressed Shinichi's head into his shoulder, regretting deeply. Wet slowly seeped through the shoulder of his shirt. _Of course that was what he thought- You were sitting alone, in a dark room, holding a lighter, flammable materials and crying. Idiot!_

"I wasn't even thinking about that- I'll never consider hurting myself like that, no matter how hard things get, I promise." Kaito curled his arm around Shinichi's waist, stroking the skin there, hoping that that would assuage him.

Shinichi drew back slightly, then a beeping sound came to his attention. Kaito lightly dragged his fingers over the smooth metal surface. _Scared me._

He snorted. "You scared me too, so how about we call this even?"

_What were you doing?_

He hesitated, and the original dilemma came back to him. "I was- I couldn't become KID anymore. The Black Organisation took that away from me. So I wanted to get rid of everything." _I won't get caught and leave you alone._

Gentle fingers caught his palm, and drew a character in it.

_Mother._

He blinked. Certainly, it was an idea. His mother was nowhere as helpless as she looked, as she was the Phantom Lady. And she might want the costume back. Otherwise, she could also easily dispose of it.

He dropped a kiss on Shinichi's forehead (Or eyebrow, as the case may be), his heart lightening. "Thanks, darling," he murmured sweetly against Shinichi's skin, smiling as the skin warmed, then dragged him up. "Why are we still sitting on the floor? Let's clean up and go out. Ah, I'm going to have to launder and iron this again…"

They snuck the KID costume back into the Kuroba house. His mother didn't seem to notice anything, as she happily chatted with him, considerately guiding him around the house to refamiliarise him with the space. He frowned. Where was Shinichi? He thought he had gotten over the strange nervousness he had of meeting his mother, who was perfectly harmless. Unlike Shinichi's parents, whom he consistently got the impression of blades under silk from.

Light footsteps sounded behind him, and he grinned brilliantly and called out, "Shinichi! Over here," he waved. "Where've you been? Our house isn't _that_ big that you can get lost in it-"

A object was thrust into his stomach. It was soft, with some boxy angles, he thought, as he explored it with his hands. A bag. He was puzzled. "Shinichi?"

Beeping sounds. _A gift. Just open._ He brightened. He _loved_ presents. He fumbled for the opening, ripped it open, and revealed a soft small item made of fabric. He felt around.

It was a hat, with a soft rounded crown, but stiff sides. There was a smooth, silk band around the cap, and a firm brim. _Wait, this fabric-_

"I was so surprised when Shinichi asked me for help in buying a hat for you," his mother chattered. "I asked him, why don't you buy any old hat from a shop, but he said, _no_, it had to be a special hat, and so we went to the best hat maker we could find on short notice, and Shinichi brought out a few samples of fabrics he wanted. We spent so _long_ pouring over the fabrics available- he said it just _had_ to be _these_ fabrics and _this_ design, no matter how much it cost him. Ahh~ you're so lucky, Kaito, having a rich boyfriend like that." He could almost hear the leer in her voice. "Well, what are you waiting for? Try it on!"

Kaito had a suspicion, but he wore the cap, adjusting it neatly, marveling. It _fit_. Another piece fell into place. _Shinichi's detective-ry must be rubbing off on me._ He laughed, warmth coming over him like a brilliant sun colouring the world.

"Ah, how nice," His mother said. "White and blue, it looks so naval and distinguished." There was a knowing smile in her voice that made him _wonder_.

But no matter, he had a boyfriend to thank and hug to death first. Or near enough anyway.

**Sorry guys, I copped out on you there /laughs sadistically**

**I'm aware that it's depressing at first, but it is a disability fic, and I wanted to do the conditions justice. It's definitely not something easy to get over, so I won't make it easy for them. But it'll definitely get better, because I can't stand writing angst for too long either. /laughs It's not fun for readers, and definitely not fun for the writer.**

**Thank you very much! C:**


	4. If you can fill the unforgiving minute

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

"It's not that you're helpless," Ran said anxiously, as she meticulously wrapped the books in brown paper before stacking them carefully in the boxes lined with bubble wrap. _Spine down, _Shinichi had insisted, and made the screen flash multiple colours for emphasis. "It's just that we'd feel better if there's someone else here too since both of you have different needs." Her voice faltered slightly over the last few words, and Shinichi tried to stifle a flash of resentment. It was true after all, and she was only thinking about their well-being. It would be much more comforting to not be alone in case the phone rang, which had been a point of difficulty for him the past week. There were occasions when he forgot in the rush of a crime scene, and too-quickly dialed a number for the police or an ambulance, before realizing he couldn't respond to any of their queries verbally. It had been very frustrating.

He briefly clasped Ran around the shoulders, before letting go, and signing _Thanks_. Ran smiled, relieved. Shinichi felt slightly guilty, as Ran had been walking on eggshells around him ever since the incident in the hospital, when he mistakenly vented his bad mood on her. He was rather embarrassed about his childish behavior, but Ran hadn't mentioned it, and Shinichi had been eager to put it behind him and forget about it too. Still, he told himself to be especially nice to her to make up for it now.

"It'll be nice to live with Chikage!" Ran said optimistically. "You get along well with her, right? And Hakuba will even be in the same area. I know you guys aren't working in the same department, but just having someone else there too will be good, for cases. Just in case of anything." Shinichi huffed silently, sardonically amused. Although it could be said that in Beika, Shinichi also had Mouri as a fellow detective, while many people's behavior had adjusted around him after he became… nonverbal, Mouri had remained just the same- completely and utterly dismissive of Shinichi. While not very helpful for Shinichi, it had been an oddly comforting familiarity. The infinite things in the world: the universe, human stupidity and Mouri's dislike for Shinichi. _Sounds about right._

He didn't openly admit it even to himself, but he was slightly nervous about living with Chikage. While Chikage had always been pleasant to him, it was _Kaito's mother_ after all. Still, he maintained a polite, affable, if distant, relationship with her that he was fairly sure he could do even while in the same house with her. _Right._

Ran took the last book off the shelf, wrapped it up, and slotted it in, before shaking off the dust in her hands. "Gosh, Shinichi, do you ever clean?" Shinichi frowned at her. _Of course, it's my beloved library._ "Obviously not enough," she concluded. "Well, if we're done here, let's check on Kaito and Chikage."

They gingerly carried the boxes down the steps and to the front door. Chikage was sitting serenely in the living room. Kaito was nowhere to be seen.

"He said he forgot to pack something, and refused to let me see," Chikage said, sounding amused. "So he chased me out."

Shinichi frowned. Was that safe? After moving, they had scattered and moved a lot of furniture to make space for boxes after all, and even with his cane, Kaito could easily trip. It would only take a stray object in the wrong place, at the wrong time, for Kaito to fall and break his neck down the stairs. He tapped Ran, signing that he was going to check on Kaito. Ran nodded, looking as if she was trying to suppress a smile, and hefted the full weight of the box. Shinichi hurried up the stairs, heading to Kaito's room, where the crashing sounds were echoing from, taking two steps at a time.

It was barren in the room. Kaito was checking the drawers, and once he was done, he flung them shut with abandon, moving on quickly to the next cabinet. Currently, his head was buried in a cabinet which he didn't even know had a hidden drawer. And he lived in this house for the majority of his life. He quirked an eyebrow at Kaito, and tapped him on the shoulder with a special rhythm they had agreed on, drawing a question mark on his bare arm.

"Ah, sorry, Shinichi." Kaito apologized, sounding greatly distracted. "I just remembered something, and I wanted to make sure I didn't leave any questionable objects behind-" Another cabinet door banged shut. "I should be done soon- hmm." He picked up his cane, walked over to the far end of the room. He tapped at the floor with the cane, brows furrowed. "Help me look for it." Shinichi sighed in exasperation and started knocking on the floor for a hollow panel. He struck one and whistled loudly. Kaito bounced over, and fumbled, before sliding a hidden panel aside and flipping the latch. The panel swung up and-

_I'm not sure this is legal._ He pushed the wrapped card gun into Kaito's hands, with a scowl. _He'd better not be installing these without my permission! _He had no idea that this room had so many hidden mechanisms. Even Kaito wouldn't be so paranoid as to set up all of these, right? Ah, who was he kidding- this was Kaito. Of course he would.

"Don't mind the little details," Kaito said brightly. He was turned away, but Shinichi could hear little clicks that were presumably Kaito checking over the card gun. _How would he even use a gun now anyway? _Though given Kaito, he might just turn add extra features to it to give unsuspecting assailants a surprise. Like a stun gun. He turned back, tucking the card gun away so quickly Shinichi couldn't catch it. "Shall we go?"

Shinichi sighed and grabbed Kaito's arm and quickly but carefully pulled him out of the empty room. He wondered if he was crazy for agreeing to stay in a house that Kaito originally inhabited and had the whole of his childhood to create tricks and pranks in. _Don't jinx yourself, Shinichi._

* * *

It was fairly well done actually. He had seen Kaito's old house before, but it was obvious that Chikage had done her research and cleverly changed the locations of some of the furniture, making the house seem more spacious. The rooms were clean and uncluttered and the hallways bare with high maneuverability. Wind chimes hung in front of the front door and windows, the former made of metal and the latter wood, so that the sounds would differ clearly. He approved of the lively, bright colours. While far from the classic, expensive sophistication of his old home, the house was very welcoming.

He curled up on the armchair furthest from the window absorbed in a book- he personally claimed that armchair, and made it a point to sit there whenever they gathered together in the living room. He had to push Kaito out of the armchair occasionally, with many a protest. Chikage had picked up the hint easily, and had swiftly shifted to another seat with an innocent excuse, upon noticing Shinichi's disgruntled look the only time she had sat there. The only other armchair was next to the window, and the wind chime's clacking sounds, less than 30 centimeters away from his ears, was distracting. Chikage was sewing a sleeve Kaito had mangled in his attempt to restitch on his own, back onto its rightful position on the shirt.

The phone rang. Being the closest to the phone, he instinctively leant forward to pick it up- Only to stare in dismay at the receiver as he realized he couldn't reply. He cursed himself, mentally apologized and was about to replace the phone on the hook when Chikage swooped in and swiped it so smoothly from his hand, he could only stare blankly. "I'm sorry, the phone cord was disconnected," Chikage said cheerfully. "Hello, this is Kuroba, can I help you? Ah, it's Momoi! Sorry, Kaito isn't in at the moment, maybe you could call back again later…" She winked at Shinichi conspiratorially and patted him on the head kindly.

He blinked at her, nodded at her awkwardly, then looked back down at his book. When he looked up again, she had already finished her conversation on the phone and was folding the shirt. He dropped his legs down from the chair deliberately and she looked up at him questioningly. Flushing, he jerked his attention back to his book, trying to look natural. Out of the corner of his eye, Chikage smiled at him motherly, patted him on the head again, and strolled out with the shirt. He turned his eyes back to the book, but it was a while before he could concentrate enough to read it again. It was an odd feeling, like the tiny, but potent warmth of a matchstick.

* * *

Shinichi had dozed off in that comfortable armchair. He sat up wincing and feeling his neck protest acutely. He wasn't very sure how long he'd been asleep.

"-and I wonder if you've been thinking of me too. I've been having these odd dreams lately, Shinichi-" He jolted up guiltily, reflexively catching the book he had covered his face with before falling asleep. Had he fallen asleep on Kaito? Surely not. Did Kaito somehow think he was awake? Self-reproach gnawed at him with sharp teeth. Kaito must have felt odd that Shinichi wasn't responding-

A hand laid on his shoulder. He looked up blearily and saw Chikage standing behind the couch in the gloom. Her face was quiet and sadder than he had ever seen it, which made Shinichi feel vaguely upset, as if he had been privy to something private, like a family mourning.

"Kaito, what are you doing?" Her voice was deceptively light as she walked towards Kaito, sitting down next to him. Shinichi thought that her footsteps were deliberately louder now, as compared to the positively undetectable ones when she snuck up on him. "Shinichi isn't God, you know," she laughed. "He won't be able to hear what you say if he's not awake." She nudged him with a shoulder. "If you want to cuddle with him, why don't you?"

There was a silence, and it was hard for Shinichi to make out Kaito's expression in the dim light. Shinichi cursed Kurobas for being born with good night vision. He discreetly flicked on a lamp. Warm light flooded the area. Kaito's face was blank, but somehow the blankness troubled Shinichi. His hands were fisted tightly, clenched around the edge of the couch.

"I'm afraid." Kaito's voice was eerily low, and paired with his implacable expression, Shinichi felt a chill of distress. "I'm preparing myself for the day when I'll be alone." He laughed, but the laugh cracked, and was dreadful. Pain stabbed Shinichi, and he reached into his pocket futilely, wordlessly, intensely hating his disability. The black box, as useful as it was, just lacked the fluidness of conversations that speech had.

But Chikage was speaking, lightly coolly, like it wasn't of importance. "How come? I don't think Shinichi would ever leave you voluntarily. You're lovers, aren't you?" Shinichi felt his cheeks burn, but his eyes were fixed on Chikage's. Her gaze was sharp and intent, but her hands were deliberately relaxed, in direct contrast to Kaito. Shinichi wondered at the strange, forbidding feeling that Chikage was giving him. _Like a once-hibernating predator, now awake._

Kaito looked as though he was about to give that despairing laugh again, but shook his head instead. He hung his head, propping his elbows on his knees. "It's not that I think he wants to go," Kaito told his knees. "But his job is so dangerous, and now Shinichi is like _that_- he can't even yell for help if he needs it- And I'm like this! I can't even protect him-" He moaned, pressing two fingers to each temple and rubbing viciously. "What can I do? I really- I really don't know what to do," His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.

"Why do you need to do anything?" Chikage queried mercilessly. Her voice was chilly and unsympathetic. "Shinichi seems like a capable young man to me. He can take care of himself."

"What if things don't work out? He can dodge twenty bullets, but what if the twenty-first kill him?" A pause. "Mother…"

"Kaito, you know this, but you can't come to terms with it," Chikage was juxtaposition of gentle and harsh. "_You're not capable of the same things as you were before you became blind_. You can't dash in out of nowhere to save the day anymore."

Shinichi thought he saw the exact moment Kaito's mask shattered. His face crumpled for a second, before he ducked his face into his arms and laid so still that Shinichi worried. Chikage pushed the tissue box at him. There was no response for a few moments, then a trembling hand reached out to grab a few pieces, followed by the noisy wheeze of a nose being blown. Then Kaito looked up. His eyes were rimmed and swollen, and his mouth trembled slightly, but his face was otherwise composed.

"Are you ready to listen now?" Chikage questioned, with an arch of her eyebrow. Shinichi wondered how anyone ever mistook this woman as harmless.

Kaito nodded, sniffling slightly. "Ah… Mum, you have no mercy."

Chikage smiled serenely, "Only for those who deserve it," she countered with a sweet, sharp smile. "Now, Kaito, you're not a silly person. Even if you had your capabilities prior to the _incident_, you can't monitor Shinichi's movements all the time by yourself. You should delegate the work more; stop thinking in such an analog fashion."

Kaito seemed to be thinking about this deeply. "Well, in the past, I used tracking devices on Shinichi," he admitted slowly. "So… I should use them again. And maybe emergency call buttons that can transmit Shinichi's location to the police or hospital or us when he needs it since he can't call using the phone. And listening devices…" He leapt to his feet, a new purpose in his red-rimmed eyes and a bounce to his step. "Thanks, Mum!" He grasped her arm, roughly kissing her on the ear and a bit of hair. He didn't seem to mind, laughing as he tried again and managed to kiss the cheekbone on the second attempt. "You're the best, even if you're a bit mean sometimes. I'm going to call up Jii now!" He practically flew to his bedroom, cane dragging against the ground.

Shinichi sat there feeling silly, before he mustered up his courage, and before he could change his mind, tapped his foot on the ground. Chikage turned around and smiled at Shinichi, a question in her quirked eyebrow. He coughed awkwardly and signed _Thanks_.

Chikage's brow relaxed and she reached forward and patted Shinichi on the head. He suspected she liked doing that. _Thanks for comforting him and… you know,_ he signed. He sighed. Where did all his eloquence when confronting criminals go? It would be much appreciated now.

He tried again. _It's normally so hard to talk to him like this… The black box isn't so good at conveying long sentences. I was worried about him, thank you for snapping him out of it._ Even if she was very scary while doing so. He made a prayer that he would never get on Kuroba Chikage's bad side.

Chikage's eyes widened in understanding and she hummed thoughtfully. "I'm his mother, it's practically in the job description," she laughed cheerily, waving it off. "And… if you need a translator, I would be glad to help." She winked at him. "I'm very discreet." She put a finger to her lips playfully and pretended to zip them. "I'll take your secrets to the grave!"

He huffed in surprise. _Somehow, I'm not surprised Kaito turned out like this now._ He nodded in acceptance of Chikage's idea, and turned away to leave, then hesitated and turned back. Chikage's face had collapsed into a mask of weariness. He felt a pang and impulsively stepped closer and leant forward, wrapping his arms loosely around Chikage. Chikage stiffened up slightly and he was about to pull back, embarrassed, when soft arms curled around his back to hug him tightly. She smelled like lavender.

_This wasn't a betrayal of his mother,_ he assured himself as a strange surge of emotion stuck his throat painfully. _Mother smells like vanilla and honey. _He clung to her for a few moments, absorbing the warmth of the motherly hug. Chikage let him.

**Ending in one more chapter, if I estimate right. Thank you, everyone! C:**


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